Tell Me I'm Pretty || L.S. (Complete) ✔️

Alright

The next time the two met, Louis met Harry for once.

So Louis had fans. Nice.

"You're amazing. Thank you so much for what you've done for this town," a little girl thanked him sheepishly, taking his autograph. All he did was take a stroll down his new neighborhood and he was swarmed by civilians nearby. Soon he might need his own security.

After he smiled and took pictures with them all, he left to return to his home before any newcomers spotted him. Taking the elevator up to his bachelor pad, he whistled a tune, entering the flat. It was nice. Homely even. But very, very vacant. With him wiping his hands rid of Josh, he had nobody else to talk to and no one came by to visit him. Not even fans of his. Maybe he was too intimidating.

The 32 year old missed being in a relationship. Having someone to hold and care for. To listen to him and laugh at his childish sense of humor. A person whom wouldn't want him for his fame, but for his charm and kindness. Just because he's Louis.

His last wife, Hannah, just wasn't his cup of tea. She was the type of woman who clearly only wanted him for his fame and money, only standing the sight of him when cameras were around. When the fame was fresh out the oven. They had no kids and the sex was poor, and eventually his fame ran out, and so did their marriage, as she cheated on him relentlessly. Louis felt like he wasted his time and a great portion of his life being unhapily married to the person that wasn't the one.

"But at least I didn't go to bed alone," the man spoke into the empty living room. Maybe he could use a drink. He waltzes into the kitchen, checking the special cabinet where he keeps his liquor only to find it empty. Shoot.

At least it gave him an excuse to leave the place. It'd be nice to have someone to complain to, but Josh and him were no longer on good terms. So, he was completely alone once again. He wished his mum was still around.

Hopping into his ferrari (which had a dent in the side, lousy kids) and headed to get a new collection of alcohol that could last him to the end of the week at best. The man preferred not to leave the house so he didn't have to witness all the happy couples and endure the overbearing fans. No offense to them, he just didn't even think he was that special himself. The 32 year old wasn't self-conscious, he just saw the truth and the truth was, he was just an ordinary guy.

As he finally arrived to retrieve the required alcohol, he left the store and noticed a new place across the street that he didn't remember seeing, but that wasn't what caused him to look in that direction. He had recognized a head of curls leaving the establishment, silently hating his luck running into this kid seemingly everywhere. Honestly, this town really wasn't that small.

"Fuck you!" the boy yelled, nearly stumbling over the sidewalk because of his long stiletto heels. A man appeared from behind whom resembled David Beckham greatly with his brown hair and his beard engulfing his face.

"This is the only way you can afford it!" the man yelled back reaching for Harry as if he was prepared to grab him, but he checked his surroundings first and pulled away. Peculiar.

"Never in a million years! I am NOT a whore, nor will I ever be," he huffed, reaching into his purse and pulling out what looks to be a cigarette. The man snarls at him and goes on speaking to him a bit more quietly. Louis takes the opportunity to read the sign. "BOYS & GIRLS XXX" That sounded like....oh.

Louis is shaking with rage, knowing good and well only Josh would approve of such a business in a family-oriented town, the fucker. The last mayor, Mayor Higgons, would never approve of such a place in his town. This was too infuriating. So Louis placed his alcohol into his trunk, then he marched over to the two, taking a guess at what the man may be trying to coach, Harry(?), into doing.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Louis asked wrapping an arm around the boy. This seemed to divert the man's attention away from his target.

"Wh- Mr. Tomlinson? This belongs to you, sir?" he asked harshly, referring to Harry. His tone seems to have changed, Louis notices. Nonetheless, Louis' fist clenched.

"No, Harry ( please be named Harry, Louis is getting old) belongs to no one but Harry. But if I ever see you put your hands on him, we're going to have a problem."

The boy tensed and looked to the man. "Liam, just go," he commanded weakly. So that's the asswipe's name. Liam.

Liam looked from Harry to Louis, to Harry again before scoffing and going back into the building. Harry sighed in relief, and honestly, Louis did too. Sure, Louis had some authority, but Liam was fucking ripped. He could stand little to no chance with him in a fight.

"Thank you," Harry breathed, placing the cigar back in his purse. It was secretly his only cigar that he promised to only smoke when life became too much to bear.

"Sure, whatever. What's a tike like you doing in a strip club? I have half a mind to-" Louis was prepared to preach to him about how dangerous it is to deal with men like that, and that he wanted to call his parents, until he remembered the conversation they had not even a week ago about his parents, so he cut himself off.

"-fuck me?" Harry finished cheekily, and Louis couldn't even say he was surprised by his comment.

"No, Harold. Never mind, gosh."

"Liam is my landlord, by the way. He basically took me in and allowed me to live where I do now, so he does own me, kinda."

Louis almost plucked him. "Listen, you don't belong to anyone but Harry. Just because he has dictatorship over where you live doesn't give him any rights over your body. Is he forcing you into prostitution like this?"

Harry seemed taken aback by this. "Absolutely not! I'm no prostitute, I just sleep around. He was only looking after me by offering me a job here to pay his rent. so I won't get kicked out. He's a good man." Good man my ass.

People were still around, and Harry looked straight out the strip club, so Louis offered to talk somewhere else.

"No I- I can't. I'm meeting someone in half an hour so I should go. Just- stay out of my life. I can't have Liam hate me, too. I hate being hated and I also need a place to live." The older noticed Harry's grip on the hem of his jersey tighten.

"Do you like me?" The words came out so fast, Louis almost missed it, if it weren't for the 18 year old putting his hand over his mouth.

"What?" What.

"Do you like me outfit I said," he spoke louder and more frantic, taking a spin to show off his legs in a pair of shorts, mostly covered by a long, white button-up shirt. Should Louis ignore the obvious lie or?

"Not particularly," which wasn't a no, but he was too dazed from the previous question to really answer. The younger stood and stared at him, biting his lip nervously.

"I think I'm alright looking," Harry speaks as though he's trying to convince himself, "which is all that matters." Lies.

"Exactly," Louis dismisses, noticing a fade in the sparkle the younger boy normally posses. Harry wasn't hurt, really he wasn't. It didn't stab his ego at all. He only ran away because he needed to be someplace. Not because he needed to cry or anything. Nope.

And Louis definitely didn't feel for the lad and let guilt sink into his body at his cruel honesty. Nope.

Dedicated to: Youtuberschild because she always gives a nice comment :)